


Goodbye isn't for Forever

by peeka_boo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Ghost!America, M/M, Past Character Death, Revolutionary War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peeka_boo/pseuds/peeka_boo
Summary: Arthur Kirkland moves to America to pursue his career in journalism, he ends up encountering a young American ghost who had died during the Revolutionary War.





	1. Ghost Encounter

Arthur Kirkland had lived a quiet, humble life in his little home in England, a similar life to most of the people there. He had been raised to be a proper gentleman by his parents, adored tea, and enjoyed peaceful quiet evenings with the occasional visit to a local pub. Even though he's had his share of great events happening in his life, he still felt deprived of adventure, his dream for the future was to go out and explore the world. Almost immediately after graduating college, he booked a ticket to America, New York City to be specific, in order to continue pursuing his blossoming career in journalism.

Upon moving to New York, Arthur discovered the city to be very busy; his small apartment was enough for the moment as he was writing for a local newspaper company. His new environment was quite to his liking, although it was a bit hard to find a quiet evening now and again. The road outside his apartment complex was always filled with noisy cars. Though he was still getting use to this new place, he found he was growing quite fond of it.

He didn’t know of what the future had to throw at him, or the past, for that matter.

It all started one evening when he was finishing an especially big project for the news, a shifting of papers across the room caught his attention from the current assignment he was working on.

"What was that?” He asked himself tiredly as he slowly got up from his desk, stretching his arms out as he listened to the pop of his joints.

After taking a quick but careful inspection of the room, Arthur deemed it was nothing but his overworked mind playing tricks on him and decided to return his attention back to the paper he was writing.

“Hey, what'cha working on?”

A voice sounded through the still air.

“Wait what? Who’s there?” Arthur asked out loud, swiveling around in his chair. 

A surprising breeze grazed the side of his face, rustling a couple papers on the desk behind him. 

Arthur was jolted out of his exhausted mindset, suddenly on full alert.

“Anybody there?” He tried again. 

As he turned his head to his left, he glanced a man leaning over his shoulder, a confused expression as he read the paper on his laptop.

"Sorry dude, I don't really understand this."

Arthur blinked at the man blankly, his exhausted mind not fully comprehending the situation at hand. Suddenly he flung himself away from the slightly glowing figure.

“What the bloody hell... WHO ARE YOU?” 

He screamed as his mind finally registered the man in his room, flying out of his chair and sprawling across the floor, his arm scattering a pile of papers everywhere.

“Whoa, you can actually see me?”

“O-of course I bloody can, and what are you doing in my room! How did you even get in here? What are you doing here? Why are you here?” Arthur started rapidly spewing questions at the intruder from his position on the floor, half trying to get away from the man and half trying to collect the papers he has sent into disarray.

“Calm down dude, you’re going to wake all your neighbors if you keep screaming like that!” The intruder shushed, trying to reason with Arthur's nonstop screeching, "It's even starting to hurt my own ears and mind you I'm dead!". 

“WOULDN'T YOU ALSO BE SCREAMING IF YOU SAW THAT SOMEONE HAD BROKEN INTO YOUR ROOM, AT NIGHT?!?!” Arthur shouted back, his emerald eyes blown wide.

“Sure, I guess I see the point in that,” he replied nonchalantly, "But seriously dude, STOP FREAKING SCREAMING" He yelled at the Brit, which in turn had the opposite effect. 

Arthur screamed, a sound that put ambulance and firetruck sirens to shame.

He scooted himself further away on the floor, hugging the papers he managed to pick up off the floor close to his chest, his heartbeat was racing and the shout from the ghost most definitely didn't help. He screamed again.

The ethereal figure face-palmed, shaking his head in his hand as he muttered to himself quietly.

Arthur, having calmed down a little at this point, tried to talk to the man who was currently mumbling about the 'stupid modern age' and 'what's the big deal about seeing a ghost, I thought they were cool'. 

"Um," He tried, though his voice croaked from all the screaming he previously did, he cleared his throat, "So can I ask for an explanation to your appearance here in my apartment?"

The ghost turned to look at him incredulously, lowing his hand from his face, "So now you're ready to talk like a normal human being, huh," he said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur cleared his throat again, "Uh, y-yes, I g-guess," Arthur mentally cursed himself for stuttering, "I would really appreciate an explanation for your presence in my home."

"Dude, you're finally talking normally!" he exclaimed, jumping in joy even though his feet were already hovering a couple centimeters off the ground.

“How the bloody bullocks did you get into my room?!” Arthur asked bluntly, slightly annoyed by the other man's sudden change of demeanor. It wasn't exactly everyday you're confronted by a ghost in your apartment complex. 

“Actually, I’ve been here for the past, more than two hundred years now, I think?” The intruder answered, pressing a glowing index finger to his lips in thought, “so technically," he looked at Arthur with a cocky grin, "what are you doing in my room?”

Arthur blanked at him, raising an eyebrow at the other's sad attempt at humor.

The truth suddenly hit him like a set of bricks. 

“WAIT, ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU'RE A BLOODY GHOST?!?!?” 

“A ghost, yes, bloody, well," he looked down at his torn and dirtied uniform, "not anymore” the ghost replied, a smile slowly forming on his face, "And that sure took you long enough, like seriously dude, you alright in the head, y'know, the noggin?"

Now Arthur wasn't particularly fond or cared for the thought of paranormal activity, true, he did have a huge array of imaginary friend when he was younger, so this shouldn't be that different. Ignoring the ghost's comment, he started examining the man's features; he realized that they were around the same age, though he seemed a bit younger, maybe his early twenties. The ghost had surprisingly dashing features, short sandy blond hair complete with a cowlick, bright blue eyes that rivaled the finest polished sapphires, and that curiously still had a shine of life to them though he was already dead, and a pair of simple gray glasses completed the image. His clothing looked like an old uniform of sorts, covered in scratches and tears, faded blood stains and dirt covered the entire outfit, he must have been a soldier in a war, maybe even a commander...

“If you’re done eyeing me up,” the ghost broke his train of thought, Arthur shot him an incredulous look, a bit embarrassed to be caught staring. 

“Let’s introduce ourselves since I don’t want to be referred to as ‘the ghost’ all the time.” His guffawed laugh filling the empty apartment.

“I-I’m Arthur K-Kirkland,” he started, God, he stuttered at the worst of times.

“And I’m the amazing Alfred F. Jones, at your presence!” The ghost-no- Alfred, declared with a flourished bow.

Arthur scoffed, “well, Mr. Jones, maybe we should learn a bit about each other, as I am curious to know how ‘amazing’ you actually are.” 

Alfred smiled in return, “Imma proud soldier of the Revolutionary War, fought many Redcoats, I joined rather early on ya know.” Smile still etched upon his face, “I was actually one of the top heroes as the commanders called me.”

“Whey that sounds quite dandy, and if you don’t mind me asking, how did you become a ghost?” Arthur asked. 

“Oh,” Alfred’s expression deflated a little, “I think they called it the Battle of Saratoga, the original battlefield is actually not that far away from here now that I think about it, a little northward...” Arthur suddenly felt guilty for bringing the topic up “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a sensitive topic,” he tried to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it dude, but seriously, asking a ghost how they died, how did you think that was going to go down?” He asked with an amused expression.

“Bugger off now will you.” Arthur mumbled, turning away.

“Aw, is that the proper way to talk to the deceased?”

"Well, are the deceased supposed to disrupt the living?"

"Touche, but aren't you supposed to respect your elders? And I'm older than you by, like, a lot." 

After a playful banter between the two, Arthur finally admitted defeat and sighed in exasperation, “you win you prat.”

A bright smile was all that he was greeted with, and honestly, Arthur felt like he was starting to like it.

Arthur got ready for bed soon after Alfred decided to leave his premises. He wanted to check if any of the other building inhabitants could see him. It was only natural, Arthur reasoned with himself, being a ghost was probably lonely if no one could see you. That didn't stop a small flame of jealousy from striking within Arthur’s chest, for some reason he wanted Alfred’s friendly, bubbly existence to be just known just by him, even though he knew that was ridiculous thinking.

He didn’t know what made him feel this way.

The logical side of his mind told him it was probably the prospect of someone whom he could befriend in the environment that was his new home, but subconsciously, he felt as if there was perhaps something more.

Alfred gloomily returned to Arthur’s bedroom just as he was about to fall asleep. It seemed no one else could see him or sense his presence. Arthur let out a small undetectable sigh as he wouldn’t have liked to share Alfred with anyone else. He then consoled the ghost by stating that even though no one else could see him, Alfred still had him to talk to, which brightened him up a considerable amount.

That night, Arthur fell asleep listening to the American telling stories of his past from when he was still alive, tales from his happy childhood with his twin brother, an annoying Frenchman he met in the revolution, and of course his heroic deeds during his country’s war for independence.

The comfort that they found in each other was calming as the last thing Arthur remembered seeing before falling into a deep slumber was Alfred’s smiling, slightly transparent face laughing while mouthing words nonetheless about his ‘heroic acts’, not that he would complain about any of it.

He awoke the next day, thankfully it was the weekend, to Alfred almost silently mimicking an airplane circling around his bedroom, his feet always hovering a couple centimeters above the floor and his arms were spread out on either side of his body.

"I've always been fascinated by airplanes, though there weren't any back in my days." Arthur heard him speak to himself.

It wasn’t until he lapped the room for the fifth time that he finally noticed that Arthur was awake, he ‘landed’ on the edge of his bed before cutting off the "putt"ing sounds, “it’s nice to see that the sleeping beauty is finally awake, hm.” This comment was accompanied by an even wider smile on the his already smiling face. “It’s the weekend and it’s not like I have anything important to do” Arthur responded, groaning as he rolled away from the American, drawing the blanket over his head.

“Ah, come on Crumpet Pants, it’s about time you got up or you’ll sleep through the whole day” Alfred whined.

“And what’s that to you, git,” came the muffled comeback.

“’Cuz I wanna see what you do during the day and it’s boring doing nothing but watch you sleep~” he whined back, “and this time I can’t even see your pretty little face~”.

Arthur felt his face heat up, he blushed way too easily. Under the covers, he wrapped the blankets tighter around himself. After a few minutes of trying to draw Arthur out, Alfred was fed up and just stuck his head through the blankets that were wrapped around Arthur's body.

“Hey Mister Crumpet Pants, how’s the air in here?”

He was promptly met with an earth shattering screech.

“Bloody hell, alright, I’ll get up,” Arthur admitted defeat after a bout of unsuccessfully trying to pummel the American, realizing he couldn’t because the other was a ghost and his hand just kept going through him. Meanwhile Alfred just floated around nonstop laughing at the Englishman’s ridiculous display of rage.

“Man, that was the best thing I’ve seen in AGES,” Alfred continued giggling as Arthur was trying his best to ignore him while getting dressed, “I mean, I don’t think I’ve heard ANYONE scream THAT loudly, you probably deafened all the dogs on the block!”

Still laughing, Alfred walked-floated to where Arthur stood, “I quite like you Mister Kirkland, I like you a lot!” Despite his best attempts, Arthur felt a blush spread from his face to his ears and neck, “gosh you are so darn adorable when you blush,” came the American’s observant comment, “I bet you’re the cutest thing to have ever stepped foot on the earth.”

Arthur finally found the courage to look Alfred in the eye, the ghost’s face was covered in the faintest tinge of a blush as he smiled as brightly as ever. Arthur felt all his anger dissipate at the sight. A neutral smile taking the place of a frown.

He instead decided to give a long suffering sigh, “I guess this is what happens when you forget a ghost can pass through solid matter.”

“Damn right it is!” Came the oh-so-cheerful response accompanied by another exasperated sigh from the Brit. 

After his morning scare, Arthur repeated his routine as he would any other day, ghost or no ghost following him everywhere he went.

He made his bed and tidied his room, picking up and organizing all the papers he had scattered the night before when he first encountered Alfred. This was followed by his breakfast, extremely tired from the morning shenanigans he decided to have a couple scones he baked earlier in the week and a cup of tea. He ignored a comment from Alfred about his scones looking more like volcanic rocks than baked goods, and flipped open the morning newspaper with a flourish before reading. He did his laundry and housework afterwards, Alfred found his routine mundane and decided to liven the dead atmosphere by bellowing all the songs he knew at the top of his lungs, this was he trigger for another argument with Arthur before the Brit realized he was the only one who could hear the ghost, making him want to thump his head against the wall, Alfred laughing the entire time.

As the morning passed by, Arthur found himself enjoying his time with Alfred, even though they met less than twenty four hours ago and had riduculous banters about the most mundane of things. He felt as if they had known each other forever, all their playful arguments and sarcastic remarks weren’t ever in ill will as they mostly just enjoyed the company of the other. 

Alfred could also be strangely sentimental at times, mostly when recalling memories from the war and realizing all the time that had passed by since he was actually alive with a beating heart and tangible body. Arthur was still not used to it yet. At these moments where his mood dipped to a low, Arthur would whisper comforting words, taking a break from his housework or current assignment and simply stay with him until he was feeling a bit better. He would've patted Alfred's back or done some other reassuring action had he been able to touch the ghost.

Arthur felt like the presence of the other being was too familiar for comfort. He couldn't shake the feeling that felt as if they’d known each other in another life, in another time.

“Say, Alfred?” Arthur asked out of the quietness that had blanketed the two.

“Hm,” came the lazy response from the American.

“Would you consider telling me what happened at the Battle of Saratoga,” Arthur visibly gulped after seeing Alfred’s eyes widen with a mixture of emotions flashing through the blue orbs, he continued after Alfred seemed to relax again, though visibly more on edge than before, “You’ve told me basically your whole military career and even your childhood, but almost nothing about the period of time surrounding that particular battle I don't think.”

Realizing what he was asking him, Arthur started to stumble on his words, "I-I mean, if you're okay with it o-of course."

After a moment Alfred started, “Well Iggy,”

“Iggy?” Arthur asked with a confused expression, “just a moment, let me explain,”

Arthur now noticed how he looked so tired, his eyes started fogging over and the happy grin that was constantly upon his face was reduced to a small smile. 

“During the Revolutionary War nearing the date of the Battle of Saratoga, a few months before if I remember correctly, I got lost in the surrounding terrain and managed to bump into an Englishman,”

Alfred paused for a moment before continuing,

“And his name, was Arthur Kirkland.”


	2. In the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Alfred's past in the Revolutionary War, leading him to meet and possibly fall for a past time Arthur Kirkland. (Sorry If the facts aren't exactly accurate, I tried my best.)

Alfred F. Jones was just an ordinary resident in town. He hadn’t even hit his twentieth birthday and had no outstanding significance that would make him important to the strained society around him, that is besides being a healthy male in his country’s time of war. He would have eventually had to submit himself into the Continental army to fight against the British, but at least he could join under his own will and have some honor and dignity within his decision. 

After all, the more men they had, the better, and who would give up the chance at being a hero?

Still quite naïve, Alfred didn’t realize at first what he had gotten himself into.

It couldn't be that hard right?

The group of colonists that Alfred was drafted into involved mostly men around his age, although a few were older. 

With the coming of summer conflicts eased and were easier fought with the lack of snow and occasional rain. 

They didn’t receive much training and supplies were limited. They were usually lightly armed and disorganized but made up for it in spirit.

Despite looking quite sorry against the well organized and armed British army, the Continental army proved to be an effective force of defense. They managed to get by even with all the shortages they had to face: no provisions, no shelter, and sometimes even basic supplies were lacking.

Alfred was quite proud to have made it through his first couple of months in the army. Sometimes the cutbacks were a little hard to bear and he watched his companions and comrades die at the forces of the Redcoats and due to limited supplies, he was a fighter and would do anything to survive this. That didn't stop the images of his dead comrades from parading in front of his closed eyelids, nor the sound of their screams in his dreams. Alfred tried to block it, to blotch it off his memory, but the sounds of agony accompanied by the firing of muskets and the whistling of bullets in the air still came back to haunt him no matter how hard he tried to forget the past.

The first few years went by slowly, Alfred fell in routine with everyone else and stood helplessly aside as the bodies of his fallen comrades were carted away and hastily buried. Though with all those who have fallen, there were those who fought to survive and succeeded. One of which Alfred knew was a amorous Frenchman by the name of Francis Bonnefoy. 

"Mon dieu Alfred, you have gotten worse for wear since the last time I saw you, are you alright?"

Alfred has gotten used to the Frenchman's watching his every move and keeping close tabs on his health. It was comforting that there was someone there to look after him but at times it could get annoying, life in the army has become harder since the signs of frost have appeared at night, signs of the first snow arriving soon.

"I'm fine Francis, please leave me alone."

"I'm truly sorry for being, what's the word, observant, but you have been worrying me ever since I left, and that was only two weeks ago! I came back just a couple days ago and you don't seem to have gotten any better," Francis shot him a concerned gaze before asking again, "are you sure you're all right Alfred?" 

"I'm fine Francis, I swear." Alfred replied with a sigh, "Davie and James died though, we buried them a few days before you returned, hypothermia, as expected with this temperature," His eyes clouded over, tears threatening to leak from his solemn blue eyes. Even with all the time he had spent in the army, he still wasn't able to stop crying at times like these. 

"Alfred, I didn't know about this, don't worry mon cher, they are in a better place now, it will get better from this point forwards, D'accord?" 

Francis looked at Alfred sadly, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder, "You are still much too young for this, Alfred. You shouldn't have to see all this carnage." 

As Francis pulled him into a comforting hug, Alfred silently asked himself, 'was it really going to get better?' As winter descended upon them, the chances of things staying positive were very slim, their comrades were going to die, and they weren't likely going to survive the winter with their scarce supplies and minimal help. Francis was just a visiting French aristocrat before joining the troops, claiming that he wasn't one to die early and needed some action out on the battlefield to spice up his mundane everyday life. 

Alfred enjoyed his company in short doses as the Frenchman could be overbearing at times, but even Francis himself sometimes asked why he joined, he had a much better life back in France as part of the aristocracy, but instead he was risking his life in the dirt and muck of an unorganized army and facing death at every corner. It was a wonder how they have all survived this long.

War truly changed a person, and Alfred had gone from a carefree, happy, little boy, to someone who he was frightened to confront and didn’t recognize at all. 

His smile had long faded away, sometime after he witnessed his first few skirmishes against the British. His fallen comrades’ screams still sometimes rang in his ears along with the sound of bullets whisking through the air, as time went on, he became numb to the world around him, reality seeming miles away. 

Just as he lost his smile, Alfred became immune to killing, his hands were stained with the blood as he fought for his country’s freedom. It was his only purpose now, to fight for his country’s independence, or die trying. The years following went by in a blur.

That was, until a certain Brit stumbled into his life.

It was as normal as a day as he could remember, much of the news said that the war wasn’t going to end in their favor; the Englishmen were too powerful compared to their measly forces.

As he thought about the rumors circulating around the last town they had passed through, he had somehow separated himself from the army. He was now wandering in the wilderness terrain of wherever they were. Alfred muttered a curse under his breath and decided to look around at the area for any landmark he could use to locate where he was. He knew where they were going, he just didn’t know how to get there.

"Damn, the one time I lose Francis is the one time I get myself lost in the wilderness, how did I lose them anyways?" Alfred asked himself exasperatedly as he trudged through the grasses, "he usually clings to me ever moment I'm around, how did this even happen in the first place?" He muttered to himself as he kept walking in circles.

Alfred eventually decided to settle himself down on a rock and think through the situation at hand, the distant sound of a twig snapping and boots crunching on grass alerted him of another person approaching.

He swiftly raised his rifle to his shoulder and got into a defensive position behind the rock. As he paid close attention to the area around him, he picked up the sound of someone cursing not so quietly and as he listened a bit more, he discovered the voice had a very distinct accent.

"Bloody hell, bloody war, bleeding arsehole of a commander," 

Fully prepared to fight, he readied his rifle just as the Englishman rounded the cluster of trees that led to the small clearing he was currently hiding in.

Alfred felt his muscles tighten as he waited in anticipation; as the Englishman was clear in his sight, he jumped from behind the rock, 

“Freeze!” 

The Englishman screamed.

“Drop your weapon unless you want me to shoot!” Alfred had never felt so tense, but he still managed to keep his voice from wavering and continued shouting, “Now!”

“Blimey, alright, alright!”

This was surprising to him, he had never seen an Englishman relent so easily before, or not before taking a shot, as he took a closer look at his opponent, he saw that he had already placed his rifle on the ground before him, hands raised in a surrender, eyes lowered, covered by short choppy bangs.

Alfred dropped his rifle and allowed his body to relax a bit, “what are you doing out here?” He asked, surprised that they were alone in what seemed like miles of empty terrain.

“Well, I guess I could ask you the same thing,"

“Well, I asked first,” an unusual childish tone presented itself in his voice that he had thought long disappeared. It surprised him greatly.

The Englishman sighed, “Fine, I was separated from my regiment as we were heading out to our next destination, next thing I knew, I was stumbling through these bleeding woods.”

“That's interesting I guess, and since you asked second, I guess I can tell you that that’s exactly what happened to me too!” Somehow, this man had awakened a part of him that he had thought was long gone, the cheerfulness, happiness, and naive curiosity of his past persona.

“Now I guess it’s my turn to ask a question again,” Alfred continued without missing a beat, 

“What’s your name?”

“Arthur, Arthur Kirkland.”

As he raised his eyes to meet Alfred’s, Alfred could see all the features on his face, tousled dirty blond hair that covered the majority of his forehead, stunning emerald eyes, and some of the biggest pair of eyebrows that he had ever seen. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Blimey, why are you laughing!”

“Your eyebrows are huge dude, they're like a pair of furry caterpillars resting on your face!”

“Bleeding hell, you little prat!”

“At least I’m taller than you!”

“Why you…”

After Alfred had calmed down from his laughing fit, he sat down on the rock in the small clearing, Arthur eventually deciding to take a seat beside him. 

"What's your name lad?"

"Alfred F. Jones, proud defender of the United States! He raised his arm in a mock salute as Arthur sighed.

“Say, how come you didn’t back down when I held you at gunpoint, literally?” He giggled a little at the cheesy pun he just made.

“Well,” Arthur started, trying to ignore Alfred’s laughing, “I was actually forced to join the army by my father, he thought it would build onto our family’s reputation, you see, I’m actually a former aristocrat.” As he was talking, Alfred noticed him sat a little taller as he talked about his nobility. 

“That’s pretty fancy dude, no wonder a spoiled brat like you are horrible at fighting!”

“I beg your pardon, I’m doing just fine mind you!” Arthur exclaimed as blush lit up on his face. 

“God, you’re so fun to tease," Alfred cackled. The Englishman was charming, in his opinion they would've been great friends if not for the war. Maybe even lovers somewhere down the line, Alfred thought, but there was the whole issue with religion, two men together in a romantic relationship was a sin, Arthur would know especially coming from a rich family. He probably grew up with the church's practices engraved into memory.

Alfred was quite liberal and he had just accepted that he would fall in love with who a person was, not their gender.

And he found Arthur to be absolutely perfect, even if they were on opposite sides and technically betraying their respective countries.

“I like you," He declared, "I like you a lot!”

“I guess you’re not bad either, prat...”

"We're stuck with each other anyway." Alfred said matter-of-factly, smiling at the still frowning Brit until he smiled as well. 

Despite their countries being at war, and that they could be easily marked down for treason at the moment. Alfred and Arthur made light conversation as they enjoyed each other’s company, secluded in the woods with no one but each other. Not minding the time as the sun went down.

They chatted through the afternoon, but time passed way too quickly. 

Arthur happened to have a map of where the English troops were heading, how he had forgotten it was with him, was nothing short of interesting. 

“Well,” He bristled, trying to look dignified despite his face flushed with embarrassment, “I got, mad, at my commander because he said my aim was off in the last skirmish we got into, and that it was a waste of supplies such as bullets and gunpowder that they were using up on me.”

This earned him a smirk from Alfred, though an understanding expression was present in his eyes, “well, if your aim is that terrible, I guess that I can give you a few pointers” he suggested, charming smile ever present as Arthur raised an eyebrow accompanied by a sarcastic grin.

Arthur scoffed and sharply turned his head away after a moment of intense staring that passed between the two, “I’m not that bad, but I guess I could hear out your, pointers, as you called them.”

Alfred laughed as he began to teach Arthur the basic skills to shooting a rifle or a bayonet, commenting on how bad his technique was, getting Arthur all flustered and irritated in the process. They continued through sarcastic remarks, bad jokes, and decent advice. Alfred didn't want the aristocrat to die, after all. Though depending on their situation he probably should have.

“The sun’s starting to set,” Alfred observed out of the blue, dropping Arthur's weapon that he had been holding as he started to think.

“We can set up camp here since it looks like we have enough materials to make it through the night. Thankfully it isn’t that cold yet.” He turned around and grinned at the Englishman.

“I suppose, that would work,” Arthur answered uncertainly, “I’m not quite familiar with the territory or how all this works, but I’ll help in whatever way I can…”

“Great! That’s all I need to work with.” Another smile was shot in his direction and he had to suppress the blush that threatened to spread over his face, mentally questioning why Alfred's actions affected him so much.

With Alfred’s hard work, they had started a small fire and settled camp around the small clearing, using mostly Alfred’s supplies as he carried them with him in cases of emergency such as this. They held small casual conversations and got to know each other a bit more, content with the company of the other.

“That should do it!” Came Alfred's cheerful laugh. “Camp is set up, but I don’t happen to have a tent, too bulky, we could just sleep close to the fire.”

“But won’t the light alert possible passersbys of our positions” Arthur asked worriedly, night was falling and that fueled his unease as the darkness descended upon them.

“I guess we could just sleep together to conserve warmth!” Alfred suddenly burst out.

“What?” Arthur responded stupidly, blank look on his face.

“Y’know, cuddling basically.” Alfred replied, not noticing Arthur's discomfort as he continued to fan the growing flame.

Arthur blushed at the prospect of being in close proximity with the American, he had never taken time to think about if he was ever attracted to anybody, but upon meeting Alfred he had started subconsciously feeling pulled, liking him even more as the time passed. He had a good build, handsome features, and a smile and attitude that was infectious... 

He quickly shook the thought from his head as he turned back to the actual Alfred.

After putting his pack down, Alfred had lied down on the ground next to the now blazing fire and started humming, a content smile upon his face.

Arthur watched from afar, still sitting on the rock they shared before sucking up his emotions and moved his position next to Alfred’s, lying on his side facing away from him.

He heard him get up and eventually, his surroundings dimmed as he assumed Alfred got the fire under control. 

After lying back down, he wrapped an arm around Arthur, snuggling his face in the crevice of his shoulder, mumbling a small sigh of satisfaction when he got comfortable/ Arthur, on the other hand, was starting to blush furiously at the feel of Alfred's slightly toned muscled arms around him. He hadn't really noticed how strong Alfred could be.

“Bloody bullocks, what are you doing!” He finally managed to exclaim softly, gritting his teeth,

“’m cold,” was the only answer he got, feeling Alfred’s hot breath on his neck

Arthur struggled to turn around and face the American, he was on the verge of beginning to ask to be release when Alfred shifted and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, all of a sudden leaving him baffled and dumbfounded.

“W-w-wah?” He stammered, blush spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. But Alfred had reburied his face within the crook of his neck and by the steady breathing brushing across his neck, Arthur concluded that he had fallen asleep.

And within a few more moments, so had he, feeling undoubtedly safe and secure inside the soldier’s arms.

Morning arrived quickly and Arthur woke from the pleasant feeling of warmth all around him, it was very comfortable being in Alfred's embrace. though his joints ached a little from the hard ground.

As his eyelids fluttered open, he was greeted with the sight of Alfred staring back at him, sleep still evident in both their eyes.

“You look absolutely adorable when you’re asleep y’know.” Alfred mumbled just loud enough for Arthur to hear, closing his eyes for a moment before he opened them again, “I think I love you Arthur.”

The last proclamation startled Arthur into full attention, “you don’t mean that,” he tried to deny it, blush obviously evident upon his face.

“Yes I do Iggy”

“Iggy?”

“mm hm, that’s what Imma call you from now on, Arthur’s too formal and Iggy sounds like England doesn't it?”

"It doesn't."

"Yes it does."

“But you don’t love me.”

“Of course I love you.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’re both men.”

“I don’t see the issue in that.”

"What about the church! This right here is going against what we are to believe in the Bible!"

"I was never a really religious person to begin with."

"B-But this is wrong, we can't ever be together!" Arthur didn't understand why there was a little pang of hurt in his chest, he wasn't supposed to feel like this towards men, right? And especially not towards Alfred.

"I know Iggy, 'Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.' I know all this already!"

"Yes, there's that, but then it is followed by 'If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.' Don't you understand you bloody fool, we can't ever be together, I'm a man, you're a man, it won't ever be allowed!"

"Why do other people have to have a say in what we do romantically?"

"Because that is how the government and society works, it just won't ever happen Alfred, we can't be together and that is in finality as the Bible defines it to be!"

Alfred sighed halfheartedly, "how about you list some other reasons other than that book and the o' so great man above."

“Fine you prat, for the first point, if you hadn't noticed, we are at war.”

“We aren’t, our countries are.” 

"Then-then," Arthur stuttered, not knowing any other reason he could say to convince the American.

"I only heard one other reason Arthur, and it was a pretty weak one at that." Alfred said.

Arthur sighed exasperatedly before shouting again, “But you can’t love me!”

“Of course I can, there’s nothing stopping me from loving you.” 

"The Bible, God, the church, government, society. If you ever want a relationship like that, the whole world will be against you you idiot, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Before Arthur could go on Alfred broke in, "The only thing that will stop a relationship between the two of us is if you don't return my feelings!"

His statement took Arthur by surprise as he stuttered a response. “No, th-that’s n-not it,”

“Then I see no problem, Iggy, I love you and there’s no stopping me.” He said determinedly, his piercing stare burning a hole through Arthur as he looked away, "there's really nothing stopping us unless it leak to the public, we can just keep this our little secret, Iggy."

Arthur shifted uncomfortable under his blue slate eyes, “W-well, I guess it could happen if no information is leaked, I-I guess I q-quite like you t-too…” He stuttered that last part of the sentence uncomfortable, blush spreading quickly across his face again though it never fully left in the first place.

Everything he had ever been taught about romance and courtship was thrown out the window. All this chaos was caused by this bloody American, over complicating everything he had ever known and throwing the both of them in to an opening hope of despair for the future.

However, Arthur doesn't think he would ever be able to regret his decision, because in his heart, he knew it was the right one. 

And he loved Alfred more than he could express for the short amount of time they had spent together. They just seemed to fit together like the same pieces of a puzzle.

He didn't care anymore that he was betraying the church's teachings and the Bible because he knew, it was all going to be worth it in the end; after all, in all those childhood fairy tales he remembered his mother reading to him, the prince and princess, king and queen, lived happily ever after in the end, and they were somehow going to make it work with two kings.

That was all he could ever hope for with Alfred, that life would be so kind as to allow them their own Happily Ever After...

Alfred smiled in relief, letting go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding, “I knew you would understand Iggy” He whispered wistfully, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

“You prat….” Arthur mumbled back, his face and surrounding skin a bright crimson as he settled back at the American's side, a couple tears sliding down his stained red porcelain cheek.

"Don't worry Iggy," Alfred said softly, warmly, "I'll always be here for you." He brought his face away for a brief moment as he wiped the tears away with a gloved thumb.

Neither of them mentioned how it was a lie. 

They spent the early morning in each other's arms, Arthur didn't bring up the matter that they were on different sides and would have to eventually have to head their separate ways, nor the fact that they were betraying all that they were taught, he decided to just focus on the present for as long as it lasted.

In all honestly, he loved Alfred, and thinking about them parting ways brought a painful ache in his chest. 

He decided he would just enjoy the short time span they had until they separated, relishing in the warmth and security Alfred had to provide, he felt the safest as he had his entire life wrapped in his protective arms. 

Yes, he would cherish the time as it lasts, until the future came to tear them apart...

Morning came too soon; Arthur woke up to a pair of drowsy crystal blue eyes staring back at him, a sleepy smile completing the look.

“Hey sleeping beauty, are you wide awake now?”

“Bugger off.”

“Now don’t be that way Arty~”

“Don’t call me that prat, my name is Arthur Ignatius Kirkland.”

“Iggy!”

“Oh bloody hell.”

With an exasperated sigh, Arthur turned the other direction but still remained in Alfred’s arms, the American was warm, hot almost, and his earthy scent of wood and gunpowder was relaxing, he didn’t want to leave ever. It felt like this was where he belonged.

They stayed like that for a while, Alfred pulled closer to the Brit, nuzzling his neck with his face and earning a surprised “eep!” That he couldn’t help but chuckle at, earning himself a thwap on the head.

As they heard the increase sound of birds chirping in the air and the warmth of the sun reached them on the forest floor, Alfred sighed before suggesting they start moving for the day.

“I think it’s about time to get up now Iggy.”

“Hm, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon, please?” He asked, trying to get up from the ground only to be pulled back down by a stubborn Englishman.

“Five more minutes?” Arthur asked, snuggling back into the American, “I want to stay with you a bit longer.”

Alfred sighed but relented, smiling as he gazed at Arthur’s content face as he went back to sleep. 

“Fine, but only five.”

Alfred woke to the sun rising steadily in the East.

“Dude,” he slightly shook the Englishman in his arms, “I think we slept waaaaaayyy past five minutes, it’s time to get up Iggy!”

Arthur groaned, but finally raised himself to a sitting position, “fine” was all he said, accompanied by the cutest pout Alfred had ever seen.

“You’re adorable~”

“Shut up!”

After getting ready and packing up their supplies, Arthur laid his map out on a nearby tree stump, trying to gauge where they were and how they were going to catch up to their troops who should be far gone by now.

“I think we’re around this area, and I know the British army is heading over there, but the distance is a bit, far.”

“Dude, relax, I think we’ll be able to catch up to them soon enough!”

Arthur sighed, “there’s no harm to being prepared and know beforehand how the journey’s going to go.”

“Just leave it to me! I’m the hero!”

“Cheeky brat…”

They decided that they could walk until a certain point before going before pursuing their own troops. The time was spent with casual conversation, Alfred talking about anything and everything he could think of and Arthur smiled, scoffed, and laughed with him, a great distraction as they walked through the towns and terrain, souly focused on one another. 

With the loud American by his side, the time they spent walking felt very short and before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination. It was where they had decided they would part and go their separate ways, most likely never seeing each other again. Just the thought brought a painful ache to Arthur’s chest, Alfred was indeed his enemy, but somehow, he had fell for him and parting was more painful then he first thought. Tears threatened to spill from his emerald eyes.

“You okay there Iggy?” Alfred asked as he caught sight Arthur’s green glassy orbs. Damn the Americans and their observant eyes Arthur silently cursed to himself before replying. 

“I-I’m fine.”

“You sure don’t look fine, what’s wrong?” Alfred asked persistently, not willing to let the subject go.

“I-I j-just don’t w-want to l-leave you” He stuttered out, tears finally spilling out of his eyes, sobs wracking his body.

He wasn’t sure how, but the next moment he realized he was surrounded by warmth, Alfred’s arms around him and rubbing his shoulders as his tears and snot stained his uniform.  
“Shhhhh, it’s alright Iggy.” Alfred tried comforting him, “you knew this was going to happen eventually, there’s no way we could stay together.” 

“But don’t worry, we may be going on our separate ways now, but I’ll find you again, I promise.” He rested his forehead on Arthur’s and forced him to look into his blue orbs, “do you accept my promise?” He asked, waiting for Arthur to calm his erratic breathing before giving him an answer while hastily wiping away his tears, “I-I do.”

“Good, then from now on, just remember, I will find you again and we’ll be together forever then.” Alfred continued, pulling him in for a hug, “I’ve heard rumors before that said that the war was going to end soon, let us meet then hm, I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t see your beautiful green eyes again, and your huge eyebrows too!”

“H-hmph, s-shut up prat.”

“Aw, I know you don’t mean that.”

They spent the next few minutes in each other’s embrace, trying to drag their time together for as long as possible.

“Hey Arthur,”

“Yes Alfred?”

“How ‘bout I give you a parting gift, ya’know, something for you to remember me by?”

“What would you give? You need all your necessities and equipment, you don’t have anything to spare for me.”

“Don’t worry Iggy~ I've got it in the bag.”

And with that he swept Arthur into the air, laying a passionate kiss upon his lips. It was nothing special and a bit clumsy at first but they enjoyed it, a parting gift, a bestowment of love, a promise that they were going to see each other again, no matter what. The kiss wasn't long, enough for the both of them to remember the other's chapped lips and intentions that they poured into it, not wanting to leave, not wanting to let go, not wanting to say good bye.

A heartfelt goodbye exchanged as they set out on their separate ways, but neither could quite forget the kiss they shared. Arthur wasn’t able to rid the thought of Alfred’s lips on his, his cracked but warm lips upon his own, a last remnant of their time together, and a promise to the future.

"Remember me Arthur." Alfred said, his finger wiping away a stray tear that began to fall.

"Like I could ever forget someone as obnoxious as you." Arthur replied, earning himself a half-hearted laugh from the American.

"See ya later Iggy!" Alfred said, letting go of Arthur and starting in the opposite direction.

"S-see you..."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry I left it open ended. I didn't know what else to write to continue it, and I also lost the passion for this particular fic... Hope it suffices though and you aren't too disappointed.


End file.
